


Wiccans don't use rifles

by BrownieFox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Familiar!Sam, Gen, wiccan!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrownieFox/pseuds/BrownieFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something went wrong in the time line. It caused a major ripple effect. Now, Dean and Sam aren't Hunters, or even related to each other. Mary was killed by a demon, and John and his son Dean find out about the supernatural... and become witches. Castiel is the only one who knows what went wrong, and in order to fix it, he must unite the witches and the hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wiccans don't use rifles

"Finally, just a salt and burn." Sam smiled at the simplicity of their task as he finished digging up the grave that held the vengeful spirits bones. His shovel hit the old, wooden box and he easily broke the decaying wood so that they could get to the bones before he climbed out of the hole.

"Yeah, but they aren't any fun. I personally have always liked when we're hunting something that move more. You know, vamps or werewolves. Those, are fun." Dean, who was kneeling outside of the hole remarked as he handed the box of salt over to Sam, who took it and started to spread it over the bones.

"Fine, next time we can try and see if we find something more 'fun'. But you and I both know those ones are usually already taken by some Hunters. Remember that time we ran into Gordon while we were killing those vampires?" Dean's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Hunters," Dean snapped his fingers and the bones lit up in flames. "They think they know everything about everything."

"Well, you can't really blame them. They tend to know their stuff when it comes to all other supernatural beings. To them, you and me are just more things to kill." Dean just huffed. His necklace swung in the moonlight, catching a ray on its golden surface. It was some pagan's head, which one didn't matter. All that mattered was that Sam had given it to Dean as a sign of his loyalty. Around Sam's neck hung a pentagram, a gift from Dean.

"Yeah well you don't see me chasing after hunters with guns and flamethrowers." Dean snorted, watching the flames as they burned out. Sam placed the salt back in their bag and heaved it over his shoulder, standing up. Deanfollowed suit, grabbing the shovel and started to heave the dirt back in the hole, smothering what was left of the flames. Before he could finish this final part of the salt and burn, however, a yell caught them off guard.

A man was running towards them. He had the unmistakable appearance of Hunter, all plaid and rugged clothes. He had a nice full beard grown and had a ball cap on. A woman was also with him, probably another hunter, and her most visible feature was her long, dirty-blonde hair. They had guns drawn, and Dean cursed. He knew these two Hunters, they had been on their tails for a while. Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle. Ellen usually had her daughter jo hunting with her, and I'm pretty sure her and Bobby were engaged.

"You, Wiccan!" Bobby yelled and Dean dropped the shovel at his title.

"My name's Dean, at least learn it!" Dean called to them, taking a step back and talking to Sam in a considerably quieter voice so that the Hunter's couldn't hear the fear that edged his voice. He had never been the most practiced in his arts, and was still having a hard time using it, especially when it's against human beings. Killing just wasn't in his blood, nor was it in Sam's. "Looks like it's time for us to disappear."

A few mumbled words in Latin and Dean was able to do a teleportation spell… which brought them a few feet closer to the Hunters. Now Dean mumbled a bit for in Latin, and it was a mixture of a incantation to summon fog and a list of colorful swear words.

"I told you you should have practiced that spell more." Sam complained as fog filled the air, rising up and making a smoke screen for their escape. Unfortunately, Jo and Bobby had already seen this done before. They hadn't so much as paused in their running. Sam and Dean took off to the opening of the cemetery, heading for the woods (the cemetery was in the middle of the woods).

They took a wrong turn. They miscalculated where we were heading. The fog ended up backfiring. It was night time and neither Sammy nor Dean had echolocation (and didn't have spell for that on the top of their minds). So many things just went wrong in those moments as they sped through the woods, Sam stopping every-so-often only to tell them that the two Hunters were still hot on their trail. This was their job, after all, hunting things like them.

But they've never stayed at it this long.

Dean looked ready to explode something when both him and Sam reached a cliff, a fairly sharp drop-off that would take care and precision to climb down. Things that they didn't have time for. Dean was angry that he hadn't thought this through, angry that he hadn't practiced that spell that would have been so helpful, angry that that in his anger he had forgotten how to perform the de-fogging spell. Angry that the fog made it impossible to turn himself invisible and get out without being noticed. Sam was inspecting the ledge, staring down at it, taking in its every detail.

"You know, I got some tips from a mountain goat a while back. I think I could make it down. It wouldn't be too hard to carry you." Sam suggested.

"No Sam. That's our last Ace card against these two Hunters." The word 'Hunters' was said like poison in Dean's mouth, spat out.

"I thought Ace cards were supposed to be used when we're in life or death circumstances. Dean, this is a life or death circumstance!" Sam tired to get Dean to see his way. Dean opened his mouth, about to rebuttal, when a bullet whizzed past his head, grazing the tip of his nose. Turning to the way they came, Ellen and Bobby were close. Extremely close. They both seemed to think they had won, no longer running and instead approaching at a leisurely pace.

Sam didn't wait for Dean's approval. He shrugged off the backpack and shoved it into Dean's hands before changing into his other form, that of a moose. Bobby and Ellen hadn't expected this, and for a moment were frozen from surprise, giving them enough time for Dean, grumbling that this was a stupid idea, mounted Sam. Sam then took off down the edge, away from the Hunters.

Bobby and Ellen shot at the Wiccan and his familiar from the ledge, but Sam moved too fast.

*

Castiel shook his head. This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

He didn't know what went wrong, what had changed in the time line, but this wasn't how things were supposed to be. Sam and Dean were supposed to be Hunters. Bobby and Ellen should be dead. He was supposed to be friends with the Winchesters. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. And it had to be fixed.

**Author's Note:**

> : So I'll just lay this out for you. I don't really know whether or not I want to update this story. It's up for anybody to take. I probably won't post another chapter unless people seem really into this.


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